


Spes

by setos_puppy



Series: Eye of the Beholder [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blind Sam Winchester, Crowley (Good Omens) is Crowley (Supernatural), Episode: s03e16 No Rest for the Wicked, M/M, Winchester Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 05:32:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4613076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setos_puppy/pseuds/setos_puppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The clock to Dean Winchester's last hour is winding down and Gabriel calls for backup.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spes

Sam sat perched atop the kitchenette counter, listening to Dean pacing back and forth and Bobby flick through books. This was all his fault. Dean was going to go to Hell and it was all his fault. If had been able to see maybe he could have prevented himself from being stabbed, seen that he was being played; instead of Dean making a deal and they lost everything. Less than two hours left and and Archangel on their side and they still couldn’t do anything. Not that Gabriel was being particularly helpful, he wasn’t even there, he had left them with wards all over the hotel room and then vanished.   
  
  
  
Now, here, in this hotel in bumfuck nowhere, Dean was going to die.   
  
  
Sam clutched the knife Gabriel had given him tighter and wished he wasn’t so alone. Every so often he would palate-click and be given the same information he had for the past seventy-two hours. Dean was drinking and pacing.   
  
  
The flash of bright white and blue seared through Sam’s neurons in a way that was almost painful before the indescribable beauty that was Gabriel’s true form floated into his brain. He was back. And he brought someone with him. He had an essence like Gabriel, but it flickered and was dim and smokey, like he was some sort of wannabe Angel.   
  
  
“About freakin’ time! Whose this?”  
  
  
“They call me Crowley. You must be Dean Winchester.”  
  
  
Sam squinted his fake eyes and tilted his head in the direction of the British voice before sliding off the counter. He clicked a few times, slowly approaching the misty-shadowed form, and began circling it. He hummed in the back of his throat, ignoring the murmurs and shifting in the room as he continued to circle. The Brit - Crowley - sounded like snow covered ice. Soft and hard at the exact same time. Sam’s mouth turned downward. Gabriel sounded like snow but demons sounded like ice. This Crowley was a contradiction.   
  
  
“You were an Angel.”  
  
  
“This one must be Samuel.”  
  
  
Sam gave a terse smile in the direction of the voice. “Got it in one.”  
  
  
“And yes, I was. A long time ago.”  
  
  
Sam hummed again and stepped back, focusing in on the tattered remains of what he knew now was Grace and the painfully distorted wings. “Whose side are you on?”  
  
  
“My side.”  
  
  
Sam’s mouth curved up in a smile and he nodded. “I can see how you know Gabriel.”  
  
  
“We go back. There was a thing with Shakespeare. We can talk about that later, right now I’d like to have a bit of a heart-to-heart with big brother Winchester.”  
  
  
“What are you going to do?”  
  
  
There was a sound of paper being unfurled and the scent of smoke and sulphur and he heard a quiet ‘Jesus’ from Bobby. “Now. I’m not supposed to have this. I nicked it from Lilith’s bag. She’s on a bit of a holiday so I decided to take a sneaky-peak at some of her souls. This contract was front and center. Shame really, I like her a lot, she used to know how to throw a real good party and you have to respect the world’s first feminist, refusing to submit to Adam like that... Anyway. Technically I should have been given this contract, one of my girls made it with you, yeah? About this high, brunette, sultry smirk?”  
  
  
“Sounds like her. Bit of a bitch.”  
  
  
“Yeah, well, she went and gave the contract to Lilith instead of me. I took care of that though, I can’t have one of my girls doing work off the books. That’s just not fair. However, what I can tell you is... I can maybe find a loophole. Usually these kind of things are sealed up tight and a deal’s a deal, but, there’s always a bit of wiggle room if you know where to look.”  
  
  
“And where would that be?”  
  
  
There was silence in the room occasionally filled with the sound of a page being turned. “Oh dear. ‘m afraid there’s nothing much you can do short of a... you know...”  
  
  
“A what?” Bobby snapped.  
  
  
“Miracle,” Gabriel filled in.  
  
  
“Thank you, angel. Now usually an Archangel of Gabriel’s caliber could fill in the requirements easily, but...” Crowley hummed a bit. “They seem really keen on getting you into the Pit. I can’t really see why.” Gabriel muttered something in a language Sam couldn’t recognize and Crowley made a strangled noise. “Oh. That’d do it alright. Well then. I guess I’ll just have to help you to the best of my abilities. Maybe with all of us combined we can kill Lilith and there won’t be a problem.”  
  
  
“Seriously? A Crossroads Demon in a polished suit with an accent and a little bit of luck, that’s your plan?”  
  
  
“You forget who I am, Dean.”  
  
  
Dean scoffed. “Some Archangel you are, I bet you’re just all talk.”  
  
  
There was a sound of scuffling before white hot flared over Sam’s field of vision and there was trembling throughout the air, a high pitched white noise and the sound of shattering glass. “Do not underestimate me, Dean Winchester. If you get dragged into Hell and I have to go there myself and drag your sorry ass back up here I will do it if I have to in order to make your brother happy and to avert sure disaster. Am I understood?”  
  
  
“Got it.”  
  
  
“Good. Sam, may Crowley and I talk to you outside a moment?”  
  
  
“Uh. Yeah, sure I guess.”  
  
  
They shuffled out of the motel room and Sam eased himself into a bench, zeroing in on the white-blue that was Gabriel and dusky grey-purple that was Crowley.   
  
  
“Sam, this may end badly.”  
  
  
“I know.”  
  
  
Gabriel moved to Sam’s side and sat beside him, fingers running through his hair. “I will do everything I can to get him back. I swear it on my Father.”  
  
  
“That talk makes some of us twitchy, angel.”  
  
  
Sam’s mouth curved into a bit of a smile. “How bad can it get if Dean dies?”  
  
  
“End of the world, Revelations kind of bad,” Crowley informed.  
  
  
Sam made a noise in the back of his throat of something akin to bemusement entwined with shock. “Only that bad?”  
  
  
Gabriel gave a short laugh and pressed his mouth to Sam’s temple. “There is another reason I brought Crowley here. He’s a hard man to find, you should know.”  
  
  
Sam nodded his head. He had figured as much. “I appreciate it but no thanks.”  
  
  
“It’s no skin off my nose, little Winchester. I owe Gabriel a favour, I’d be willing to do this one for free.”  
  
  
Sam shook his head. “No thanks.”  
  
  
He heard a quiet noise of respect. “I like you, kid. You’re not bad.”  
  
  
“You’re not so bad for a demon, either.”  
  
  
“Fallen, thank you. I’d rather not debase myself to the low level of pithy demons.”  
  
  
Sam huffed a laugh and smiled. “So, do they call you Crowley because you’re in the body of one Alistair Crowley, or because it’s just a nickname.”  
  
  
“Ooo. He catches on quick. Smart this one and attractive. Sure you don’t want to share, angel?”  
  
  
A bark in the distance cut off Gabriel’s reply. Seconds later there were more, at least two extra and approaching fast. Time was up, it seemed. Crowley made a low clicking noise and Sam watched as out of the shadowed smoke about where Crowley’s feet were, a slinky, massive creature rose and circled his feet. It was almost hyena in appearance, dark, like black fog with coal orange-red eyes and snarling and drooling. It yapped at the air and growled low before patrolling around Crowley’s feet again before it was joined by four more of the same.  
  
  
Hellhounds.   
  
  
Fighting fire with fire.  
  
  
Sam’s hand slid to his hip to wrap around the handle of the blade Gabriel had given him and he let himself be herded inside. The door was shut and the familiar, distinctive sound of salt being poured filled the air.   
  
  
Whatever happened he would go down fighting.   
  
  
Protecting his brother like a Winchester should.   
  
  
The door burst in and there was a brawl and Sam threw himself headlong into it. Attacking the hellhounds Dean and Bobby couldn’t see while Crowley dealt with anything that got too close to Dean and Gabriel launched himself after Lilith. Meshes of colour and essence blurred in Sam’s third eye and when he hit the ground hard, everything going black, all he could do was scream Dean’s name.  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
“He’s coming to.”  
  
  
Sam groaned and forced himself up. White-blue invaded his vision and he reached for Gabriel. He was folded into his embrace and Sam’s head peered about unconsciously searching for Dean.  
  
  
“Is he --”  
  
  
“I’m fine, Sammy.”   
  
  
Sam shot out of Gabriel’s arms and into Dean’s arms pulling him close. “I told you.”  
  
  
“Yeah. You did.”  
  
  
After several long moments Sam pulled away, nuzzling back when he felt Gabriel’s arms around him. “What about destiny?”  
  
  
“What about it, kiddo?”  
  
  
“Wasn’t Dean destined to die?” Sam felt Gabriel shrug and he smiled. “So... Is Crowley coming with us?”  
  
  
“I’m not letting any demon spawn in my baby!”  
  
  
“As if I want into that tin can! I have a piece of artwork for a car, thank you very much.”  
  
  
“What some mini-cooper bullshit?”  
  
  
“I’ll have you know I drive a 1926 Bentley!”  
  
  
Dean made an impressed noise and Sam suspected he had nodded approvingly.   
  
  
Gabriel pressed his mouth to Sam’s ear and nibbled just slightly to make him moan. “I think we found Crowley a Winchester of his very own.”  
  
  
Sam laughed. And when Dean sternly asked what was so funny, Sam just clutched his sides and laughed harder.


End file.
